Double Edged Blade
by Kuro49
Summary: Shiki/Raijin!Izaya. There was danger to both sides of the game, even if it was just lunch.


My second Shiki/Iza and it features a Raijin!Izaya. Mmm… there will always be an unknown moe-ness to uniforms ;D I hope my efforts are helping to raise awareness to the Shiki/Iza ship! (Sorry to disappoint but I am not powerful enough to raise awareness to issues like AIDS or cancer… I am only remotely good for sexy man-on-man promotions.)

I don't own ;D

XXX

**Double Edged Blade**

XXX

Under false pretense, neither of them were people of the nice or remotely nicer types.

Shiki was a cruel man, otherwise he couldn't have risen up in Awakusu-kai so fast. As the executive of the group, the ability to control and command was genuinely his. He had taken root in Ikebukuro beneath the façade of an arts trade agency. His office didn't hold a single painting. There were only young men with pasts and an inability to make an honest living. This was a command hierarchy that he lived by.

Orihara Izaya, on the other hand, was every adjective except for nice and all its synonyms. He had his lust, pain, and cruelty to entertain. He would flirt, with the girls, with the boys, with all the men and women he could find. He would lie to hide the clench in his heart and he would lie to find the fun when all else failed. But most of all, he would taunt the world for all its worth. Because he loved its occupants, only he hated the city scrappers that had sent him into exile.

He frowned in distaste at the plain gray door that stood in front of him.

There were no signs, no indications, just a vibe that kept normal people at bay.

His hand clasped around the silver knob.

A turn of the wrist, a light push of the wood and the door swung open with ease.

He grinned at the sight, of people, men, all older than him. They were making phone calls, working through documents, pinning another enemy for death. Their ways were plain and predictable, he liked that in anyone.

But he only had eyes for one man.

Even though so many other pairs were resting on him.

His red eyes were trained on Awakusu-kai's executive. The man in his early thirties, white suit, dark eyes, and information he would trade anything for, just not now. Lifting a white plastic bag, Izaya's grin stretched across his cheeks. "Have you eaten lunch yet, Shiki-san?"

His offer felt naturally out of place but he rustled the bag, convenient store bought, nonetheless.

A wave of that man's hand and everyone else turned back to their tasks.

Orihara Izaya never tried to hide his age.

The blatant black uniform of a mere high school student was always a standing contrast between the boy and the gray washed walls in his office. This had not been the first time. The first time occurred a few months back, when children his age should be on summer break. Instead the scrawny Orihara Izaya was caught in a fight where a vending machine had injured two of Shiki's own men.

Needless to say, they met for the very first time and Shiki saw the glint in the red that promised so much more. The second time he appeared at the office, he came by with a painting and asked how much he would get in return. All with an intentionally serious stare.

Shiki was short of sinking the teen into the sea with concrete at his feet.

And now it became a habit for the boy to drop by, at least two and three times a month.

It was skepticism, border lining on exasperation.

"Don't you have friends, Orihara-kun?"

Izaya gave a shrug, along side of a hidden grin and sat down on the black leather couch. Shiki didn't know everything about this young boy by the strange name of Orihara Izaya. He did not know the sharp switchblade hidden in the black uniform pocket and neither did he know that the fight from months ago was solely the doing of a taunt that had crossed the line.

He only figured out the bottom line of what Izaya had wanted to accomplish in this lifetime. He wanted to cause an impact on anyone and everyone he could stretch his control onto. He wanted to create an uproar in their concrete world, start the fire and watch things unfold while he would stand back, knowing that everything was his doing.

"Who need friends when you can have the great Shiki-san eating lunch with you?" He took the bento box from inside the plastic box and opened the cheap lunch. "Besides, coming here is always a lot more interesting than staying at school."

"With Heiwajima Shizuo?" Shiki inquired, amused at the expression that the boy pulled. But Shiki could also see the menace in his eyes, hatred burning the red to a bubbling crimson. "Don't mention his name."

There was even a trace of a threat in his voice.

Along side of the plastic sheet of green grass and yellow budded chrysanthemum, it was a standard sushi lunch with wasabi and two packages of soy sauce. The wooden chopsticks gave a snap and he held out a piece of sushi, warning dissolving into a kind smile of a teenage boy with no hidden agenda.

"Tamago?"

The offer fell oddly into place.

Shiki gave a wave of his hand, gold rings glinting in the florescent white light. Izaya simply gave a glance that almost screamed _your loss_ at the rejection and brought the sushi to his lips as he chewed at it.

Leaning back against the leather sofa, Shiki knew that he was becoming intrigued with every visit. He was almost captivated to know what went on behind those red eyes but he sincerely believed that it was only the hint of curiosity that made him tolerant of someone who was probably half his age.

Shiki watched Izaya sucking at his chopsticks as he dwelled on what to eat.

The contemplation made Shiki's inner desire to torment him stir like a wild beast in the making.

"I prefer the ootoro."

Izaya snapped his gaze up and the words slipped before he could even process them.

"No way."

Izaya picked up the sushi and swallowed it before Shiki could even make a move. The man only raised a brow in curiosity of the unlikely behavior. He was genuinely surprised because as far as he had seen, Orihara Izaya was a boy twisted into a maturity that even adults did not have. This sudden display of childish qualities reeled Shiki back into reality.

His retribution was based on childish curiosity because Orihara Izaya was a child who didn't like his toys stolen by anyone else.

Shiki smirked as he leaned forward, his elbows rested against his knees and his hands were clasped together. The metallic necklace swayed as it dangled from his neck. His eyes were glinting, almost to match the stare of a predator catching sight of his prey. "I thought you wanted to share, Orihara-_kun_."

He nodded his head as he chewed on his piece of ootoro sushi, almost seemingly unaware. But Izaya was aware of every single peek or stare, from the other men in the room to Awakusu-kai's executive. Except, he only cared for one and he loved the fact that Shiki's eyes have long since found him because he really did like the attention he was being given.

Licking his lips, his smile broadened just as he swallowed. "Just not ootoro. But you can have my shrimp."

He offered his chopsticks and Shiki accepted.

Picking up the last piece of sushi from the box, he bit into the rice and shrimp.

"Shiki-san!"

But before he could swallow, Izaya had already called out his name in a voice that resounded in the office. The boy's lips blossomed into a sly grin just as all his subordinates looked up in time to hear the next commotion that Orihara Izaya had created.

"We just shared an indirect kiss!"

XXX Kuro

I think this would be Izaya's way of saying: Don't try to figure me out, Shiki-san~ -insert Kanra's sexy star-


End file.
